


Country Roads

by ticktockclockwork



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, everything is the same except there's internet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/pseuds/ticktockclockwork
Summary: Modern AU ficlets set in the south. Where else would a bunch of swamp monsters congregate afterall.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58





	1. Wet n' Wild

The sound of metal clashing with carapace echoes in Geralt's ears as he fends off another attack from the kikimora. He swings his blade up to try for it's soft underbelly but it doesn't make it that far, instead hitting one of the many legs he's having trouble keeping track of. The sudden stop of his blade ricochets the force back into his body and he grunts in pain as it slams him back against the wall. He can't get any hit in like this so he pivots his body and tucks under the next swipe, removing him from the offense but also getting him out of harms way.

He staggers back in the moment it takes the kikimora to realize he's not underneath it anymore, shaking his head to clear it. This job was supposed to be easy - a few drowners terrorizing the locals - but its dissolved into something bigger than one man can handle, even when that man is a witcher. What he’d thought would be a group of drowners turned out to be a fledgling nest of kikimora and while he can handle one, he cannot handle seven. They’re trying to protect their young queen and he doesn’t blame them, except that this one is doing it’s damnedest to make him into a human kebab and that is honestly not Geralt’s preferred way to go. If he can get away from this nest, he can perhaps enlist Lambert and Eskel to help him but as he turns and sees a second kikimora emerge from the overgrowth to his left he thinks his chances are dwindling. 

_ping_

The sound echoes through the space and it offers him just the smallest window of opportunity as the kikimora stop, confused by the sound. He makes a break for it, tearing off in the opposite direction to try and put some space between him and them. 

_ping ping ping_

The sound had given the kikimora pause before but now it was acting as a honing beacon, alerting them to his location even in the pitch dark. 

_pingpingpingpingpingping_

_~oh valley of plenty, ~oh valley of plenty_

Geralt tears his phone out of his back pocket with a growl, bringing it to his ear to cut off the ringtown. “What Jaskier, what, what what WHAT?” He snarls, leaping over more debris before ducking into the darkness provided by an overgrown slide. 

“Oh well aren’t you in a bad mood.” 

“I am on a job, Jask, and you’re giving my location away.” He’s hissing now, trying to keep his voice down as he hides in the shadows. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to silence your phone. No one takes their phone off vibrate anymore. Are you even using the bluetooth headphones I got you for this very reason?” 

Geralt doesn’t answer and Jaskier snorts. “What do you want, Jask?” Geralt asks instead, tucking the phone closer to his ear and turning down the volume as he hears one of the two kikimora go thundering past him. He doesn’t know where the second one is and he can’t listen for it when he’s talking to Jaskier.

“Yen says we’re out of creamer. I told her we picked some up last week at the stop-and-go but she says that it’s been used up and that I should call you to ask if you can pick some up on your way home from- wait where are you actually, I don’t think I asked.”

Geralt’s patience is wearing thin but he knows if he hangs up Jaskier will just call back louder. “I’m at the Waterland Splash Park.” He grunts, whipping his head around when he thinks he hears a sound behind him.

“The old water park near Jefferson? I thought that place closed down ages ago? I hear it’s haunted now.”

“It did, isn’t haunted. Kikimora nest.” He uses the tip of his sword to part the kudzu so he can look out. The second kikimora is kicking at an abandoned log raft, rolling it back and forth as if he might be hiding in it.

“Shit.” Jaskier’s attention is finally in the right place. “How many?” He asks and Geralt can tell he’s been put on speaker so Jaskier can text while still talking. 

“Seven.”

“Fuck, shit alright, texting Lambert and Eskel now. Should be on their way shortly. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you safe?”

A snort, under his breath. “No.”

“Well... alright.” There’s a pause and Geralt holds his breath, keeping an eye on the kikimora but listening to Jaskier as he takes in a deep breath then lets it out in a rush. “Alright, well, go wreck their shit then come home alright? You promised we’d hit downtown tomorrow and I intend to hold you to that.” He’s feigning the attitude now. Geralt knows he’s worried. 

“Will do.” He pauses because Jaskier doesn’t hang up right away. “Love you.” 

A breath, soft. “Love you too.” 

It’s the best they’re going to get and Geralt really does need to focus on the job at hand. He’s about to hung up when he hears his boyfriends voice again.

“Oh! And don’t forget the creamer!” 

He rolls his eyes and hangs up. 

It’s near six am when the three of them return, Eskel, Lambert, and Geralt, creamer in hand.


	2. Sunflower

“You’re a sunflower, I think your love would be too much...”

The crowd around Jaskier was small but appreciative. It was cool and an off day in the middle of the week but his case was more full than he’d expected due to his generous patrons. He’d found a small spot near a mess of hole-in-the-wall restaurants in the historic part of town and the audience he was drawing was happy to toss him a few bills for his music. Some days busking brought in very little cash but he was doing well for himself this evening and so he couldn’t complain.

“You’ll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya, you’re the sunflower, you’re the sunflower.” He stuck his tongue out to wet his lips and caught a woman watching him. He winked and she blushed, smiling indulgently. When she dropped a twenty into his case he gave her a brilliant smile and she blew him a kiss as she moved on. Those were the moments he loved most, the little barely-there connections he made with people. Harmless flirtations, jokes for the kids, old favorites for those getting on in years. A lot of people had told him that his voice could make money, could may _a lot_ of money, but he didn’t want to lose this, lose the people and the pavement and the sound of coins hitting velvet. 

As the sun started dropping and the mosquitoes began biting, he looked around for Geralt, still strumming a few bars of the song. The crowd had dispersed after gentle applause so Jaskier thought it was time he pack it up as well. Geralt should be done with business at this point. As he gathered his money - a solid forty bucks for an hour of play wasn’t shabby - he spotted the witcher across the street, tucked just into an alley. He was taking a thick envelope from someone, presumably the man who had hired him, and checking it before tucking it into his jacket. He stepped away and then turned, heading straight towards Jaskier. So a job well done, it seemed. 

“All good?” Jaskier asked when Geralt made it across the road. He slung his case across his back then leaned into the broader man, smiling as Geralt draped his arm along his shoulders.

“Hm.” He grunted in the affirmative, reaching instead to take Jaskier’s case for him. “Few haunts, easy to clear out. You?”

“Oh yeah, forty bucks. Best day yet.” he agreed, patting the jingling coins and roll of bills he’d stuffed into his pocket. He slid his arm along Geralt’s waist and relaxed into his side. “You working anymore tonight?”

Geralt looked down to him with a smirk but shook his head no, smiling when Jaskier did in turn. 

“Yennefer was telling me about a club outside town that I wanted to check out. Warehouse type deal, dancing but like, chill.”

Geralt’s smile dropped but he didn’t immediately decline. “How many people?” He asked, releasing Jaskier to dig the keys from his pocket as they approached Roach. His car wasn’t much to look at but it ran like a dream and had killer trunk space. Noisy as shit too. He popped the trunk and stowed Jaskier’s case before slamming it shut and heading for the drivers side. “You know I hate house music like that.” His heightened senses helped him at his job but they made raves a fucking bitch.

“Not a lot. Yen’s working it. I don’t think she’d suggest you coming if she thought it would be too much.” Jaskier pulled open the passenger and swung into the deep seats, immediately kicking his boots up onto the glove compartment after closing the door.

“Hm, fine, but only if you wear that black top.” He smacked Jaskier’s boots off his dash but the other man just laughed, reaching over to haul Geralt into a sloppy kiss. 

“Deal.”


	3. Black Cat Fever

Though he was assured otherwise, the music in the warehouse was loud enough to shake the windows and rumble the floor. There were more bodies crammed onto the dancefloor than Geralt thought possible and rich in the air was the smell of drugs and magic. He followed it’s scent to its source and found Yennerfer where she’d set up shop at the back of the space. She was perched on a high stool, knees crossed as she shook a small potion of iridescent liquid. She held her hand out to accept the cash the kid was paying her, then tossed him the little vial, smirking as he immediately downed it then spun off to join the bodies on the dance floor.

“You know they don’t like magic around here. Once upon a time, they burned witches for that type of stuff.” Geralt slid up next to her, watching as she shoved the bills down the front of her dress, safe in her bosom. 

“Honey, we’re in the south. Magics is in the mud.” She grinned and looked up as a pair of girls came up requesting an off-the-cuff enchantment. Easy enough to do and when cash was handed over Yen took one of the girls lipsticks and murmured her magic over it. It immediately started glowing a soft phosphorescent green and when one girl put it on and kissed the other they laughed in delight. 

“It’s warm!” 

Yen grinned more and tipped her head. “Should last you the night, ladies. Do have some fun.” The girls looked at each other, imagining all the places they could pepper warmed kisses before darting to find themselves a dark corner to do just that.

“You’re a menace.” Geralt muttered with a fondness, brushing down Yen’s hair to press a kiss to her brow.

“And you’re a wet blanket. Why are you here when our boy is out there.” She motioned and Geralt followed her eyes to see Jaskier pressed up between two bodies, laughing as he rocked down against the one in front of him. 

“Too loud.” 

Yen made a face of sympathy and exasperation before turning to pull up her fringed bag, digging around before pulling out another vial. “All you had to do was ask, you brute. Here.” She handed it over and he looked at it, tipping it to try and catch some light. 

“What’s in it?” It was safest to always be a bit suspicious when Yennefer handed you an unmarked drink. 

“Hm..” She had to think about it and that was even worse. “Think of it as both an upper and a downer.” When he looked at her for more she just winked and smiled, bouncing her knee. Geralt wasn’t entirely convinced but Yennefer wouldn’t give him anything that would hurt him unless he asked for it so he popped the cap and dumped it in his mouth.

It tasted like liquid sugar, sweet beyond measure before easing down into something more tart. Gooseberries perhaps. He coughed and shook his head as the warmth of the potion swirled up around his temples then dripped down the length of his spine. He blinked as the lights of the room pulsed a few times before settling into something easier on his system. The music wasn’t so grating either and he sighed in quiet relief as everything slid from overwhelming to nice. His senses were still heightened, for sure. He could still smell her lilac perfume and the sweat of all the bodies around him. He could still hear Jaskier’s laugh drifting about everything else, but it was no longer like a sharp crack to his skull. It was pleasant and he shook out his arms as he felt himself relax.

“Good?” Yen asked with a raised brow then chuckled when Geralt hummed in agreement. “Good. Now go away, you’re scaring my customers.” The group of college kids next to him gave him a wide berth as he passed but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He made a beeline for his bard and when he caught his eye Jaskier held his hand out to drag him in close, immediately done with the body in front of him. 

“Hello you. ‘bout time you joined me. Yen give you something?” He asked as he draped his arms over Geralt’s shoulders and pressed in close. Geralt, for his part, put his hands on Jaskier’s waist and held on, following the movements of the rest of the people around him. You didn’t really need to know how to dance at a club, you just needed to know how to move. 

“Hm, yeah, dampened everything.”

Jaskier ran a hand down Geralt’s chest, over his medallion, and hooked his fingers onto his belt buckle. “Everything?”

Geralt grinned and leaned in to bite at Jaskier’s bottom lip. “Well, no, not everything.” 

Jaskier wouldn’t give him the kiss he was angling for and instead pulled his face back to shake the hair from his eyes. “Good. What a disappointing night that would have been, hm?” 

“Indeed. Absolutely dull.” Geralt rumbled as he leaned down to drag his tongue along Jaskier’s throat, lapping up the salty taste of his partner. He could feel Jaskier’s groan against his mouth and it just made him grin more. “Wouldn’t want you growing bored with me.”

“As if I ever could.”


	4. Sun Baked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witcher Secret Santa for bastardofmothman

“You know when you said we were going to Florida, this isn’t what I was expecting.”

Geralt looks over the top of his heavily tinted shades, giving Jaskier a  _ look _ along with a raised brow. “What, is this not good enough for you, bard?”

Jaskier stretches out further on their enormous beach blanket, body dusted in pink where he’s been laying in the sun for the last hour. “Oh love, that’s not at all what I mean. This -” he waves at the nearly empty beach, at the crashing salty waves, at the bleached white sands, at the laughably expensive condo behind them. “This is god damn paradise. But when you said we were going to hunt something called a  _ skunk ape _ in the Florida swamps, I definitely expected something different.” 

Geralt sniffs and leans back in his beach chair, experimentally dipping a toe out from the shade of his umbrella into the bright sunlight before thinking better of it and pulling his foot back. “Well I didn’t want to hear you moan the whole trip about your gookies getting dirty and so,” Now he waves around at the beach.

“My  _ Gucci’s _ Geralt, jesus, have I taught you nothing.” Jaskier chokes out rolling over onto his stomach to look accusingly at the other, scowling further when he sees Geralt’s smirk. “Oh you’re a menace.” He huffs then flips back over, resting on his elbows and exposing his neck to the sunlight. “Regardless, lest you think I’m complaining, this is lovely. Thank you.”

“Thank Yen, she’s the one who got us the condo.” 

Both men look up and over, then, at the woman in question where she’s sitting in her own lavish beach chair soaking up the sun. She’s wearing a complicated bathing suit that is more straps than suit and that on anyone else would give the most horrible of tan lines. But every day they’ve stayed here, she just becomes a slightly darker, but no less beautiful, brushed amber. She’s sitting a little closer to the volleyball net Eskel and Lambert set up and is watching the two wolves play what should be a simple game of one-on-one beach volleyball but what has actually devolved into a game of who-can-spike-the-ball-harder instead. She seems less interested in the game than she is in watching the men move and while she’s never shown that kind of interest in them (nor they her) she can certainly appreciate a good show when she sees one.

Jaskier sighs dreamily and flips over once more to rest his chin on his arms and watch Yennefer from their place under the large beach umbrella. “How did she get it again?”

“Some real estate agent. Real charming fellow. Tried to sell her the place and she convinced him she needed to test run it before making a decision.” Geralt shrugs and smiles when he hears Jaskier laugh into his arms.

“Amazing.” 

“Hm.”

The afternoon is spent in the sun and the sand and for a  _ very _ brief window of time in the water, but before Geralt can burn too badly they pack it up and head inside. Dinner is had over the sounds of a thunderstorm rolling in, and while the rain is hitting hard, Lambert and Eskel head out for their contracted hunt. Not a skunk ape this time, but some giant snake that was supposedly snatching up children from people’s backyards. Geralt thinks it’s just someone’s pet snake that was let go when it got too big, and nothing a witcher is needed for, but it’s a paying gig and none of them will say no to that. 

The condo is a luxury but not one they can rely on. Yen’s magic can only stretch so far.

But it does leave them the place to themselves that evening. The rain is still coming down hard, having blown in with a dwindling tropical storm, and all three of them are feeling lazy and luxurious after a day in the sun. Yen twists up some herbal medley for them into a blunt and they waste an hour getting high off her weed and her magic. It’s a lush mix tonight, slow and low and tempered, and after the smoke has settled Geralt feels like he has honey slipping through his veins.

Yen disentangles herself from their pile to find some music to put on the record player and Geralt turns just as Jaskier leans in to catch his lips. “Thank you for this.” 

Geralt looks a little confused. “Thank Yen.” He says again, frowning. “She’s the one who got the agent-”

“No,” Jaskier silences him by pressing their lips together again. “Thank  _ you _ .” He leans back on the couch and draws Geralt down over him. “For bringing me along on this trip.” Another kiss. “For letting me into your circle.” Another, lower. “For trusting me with her. And with you.” And another, back on the lips, as he hitches his knee up to Geralt’s hip.

With well practiced hands, Geralt hooks his fingers under Jaskier’s knee and pulls it up further, making the other groan loudly. He slides his roughened hands up his thigh, dipping his fingers under his board shorts, then up and over to the gentle dip of his ribs where they’re exposed by his open shirt. “It’s no trouble.” He whispers into Jaskier’s collarbone. 

“Liar.”

Geralt snorts and leans up to catch his lips again. “Okay, maybe a little trouble.” before tumbling back down against the other again. 

When they pull apart, it’s to the inelegant huff of Yennefer behind them. “If I’d known you were going to start without me I wouldn’t have bothered with the music.” And indeed there is music now, a crooning sort of jazz coming from the built in speakers somewhere indiscernible in the room. Jaskier, now aware of it, sighs happily at the sound, arching up into Geralt more. 

“S’good.” he sighs out then grins when Geralt slips an arm under his back and hoists him upright into his lap. He moans harder as the position notches them closer together and would have leaned down to kiss the witcher again if he weren’t already turning his face to kiss Yen as she slides up behind him. “So fucking good.” 

They crash together like waves and like thunder and like plates and their rising voices are lost to the cry of wayward gulls in the night. They move, together, tangled in each other and indulging in another snort blunt from Yennefer’s stash. Jaskier shotguns the smoke into Yen’s mouth and she swallows it down and when the honey warm feelings overtake them again they succumb to the pressure and sink down down _ down _ .

When they finally come back to themselves, slow and loose and sweet, they’re sprawled on the insultingly large couch, Yen draped across Geralt’s chest, Jaskier draped across Yen. “You know when you said we were going to Florida, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Yen murmurs, turning her face up to meet Geralt’s quiet laugh. 

“Jaskier said the same thing earlier. You all act as if I don’t ever take you anywhere nice.” At Yen’s very unimpressed look he chuckles quieter. “Alright, alright. I’ll work on that. But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” There’s a breath wherein he falters, just a touch. “I know it’s not… easy being with-”

Yen shuts him up with a finger on his lips. “If you’re about to be self deprecating I don’t want to hear it.” She stretches her long bare legs and curls her toes as Jaskier readjusts his placement against her belly. “I’m a witch without a home base, picking up tricks on the road. Jaskier is a travelling troubadour who makes most of his money on street corners or from youtube subscribers who think you’re a fraud. Being with you is no more complicated than being with us.” She raises a brow to him, daring him to protest. He wisely doesn’t. “Love shared makes light of individual burdens.” 

He falls quiet at her sage reasoning and allows himself to mediate in it, the last dregs of her weed easing the sharper corners of his mind. Because indeed the life of a witcher is an unenviable one and grows ever harder as the world moves further and further away from magic and monsters. Their kind are becoming more and more rare and less and less needed and before long they were going to become extinct. But until then they move, constantly travelling, seeking out the darker corners of the world, protecting what they can and doing away with what they can not. 

It’s a hard life, thankless, and often cruel, and while Geralt and his brothers have accepted it (as much as they can) he is always a bit amazed to find Yennefer and Jaskier have too, in their own ways. They travel with him now; not always of course, needing to walk their own path from time to time, but he still marvels at just how often their paths run together. It is… a comfort. One he never expected when he first began this life. 

“Come back to me, Geralt.” Yen’s whisper curls in his ears and he blinks open his eyes to see Jaskier is awake and they’re both watching him. Jaskier looks soft, fucked out and sweet and Yen looks like she knows too much of what he’s thinking. “Let’s go to bed darlings.” A brush of a kiss to his lips, his cheek “This storm isn’t letting up anytime soon.” 

They stumble to bed together after that, making a half hearted attempt to pick up their clothes along the way. It’s a problem they’ll deal with later, he thinks, as they crawl under the blankets, Yen once again between her witcher and her bard. When Geralt presses his lips to her shoulder, she reaches back to touch his face, stroking over his cheek. “Rest. You’re going to need it.” 

Her question draws him back just briefly from the edge of sleep. “What for?” 

He hears her laugh just as he’s slipping under. “Tomorrow we’re going to Disneyworld.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr [@ticktockclockwork](https://ticktockclockwork.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ [ticktockclockwork](https://www.ticktockclockwork.tumblr.com)


End file.
